Trapped in Nowhere
by GorgeousGeek42
Summary: Clary Fray has been trapped in her own personal hell since she was kidnapped one fateful night 5 years ago. After an incident she finds herself reliving that night once again, only this time with others. Something sinister is going on and with the help of a mysterious golden boy, the group of teenagers try to find a way out. Will they escape their prison or be doomed forever?
1. Chapter 1 Tick Tock

**Chapter One ~ Tick Tock**

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Clary listened to the soothing sounds of silence, the only interruption being the tall, mahogany grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the large library. Stars gleamed magnificently onto the skylight above, the light fracturing off in many directions as it hit the glass. Tall stacks of books surrounded her, comforting her with their untold stories, whispering secrets in the dark silence. The threadbare, maroon coloured carpet that Clary lay on also held a plush golden sofa adorned with forest green cushions; probably the newest addition to the room in years. Fire licked the floor around Clary's head; beautiful, burning orange strands that created a halo around her small body, lit by the dim light provided by the sconces that hung on the dark purple walls. A dust-covered, marble fireplace was sat at the end of the room, the fire that burned inside it creating warmth for the room and casting a glow around the girl's porcelain skin.

Tick, tock. The grandfather clock seemed to mock her, counting down her minutes of silence, of peace, until none was left. Until she was back to the horrible sounds of reality, the hollow shell that was her life. Suddenly the air seemed cold. Two green emeralds searched the room, memorizing every single crevice and corner, wishing for the millionth time that she could just live away her days in this room, reading the adventures of others and their exciting, thrilling lives. A life that she did not have the pleasure of experiencing, imprisoned by the 'home' she had come to know after the last five years.

A loud bang sounded in the distance, most likely a door that will leave a mark on the wall like every other time. Heavy footsteps could be heard in the hallway, getting louder as the intruder came nearer. Clary sighed, her time was up. Technically she wasn't allowed to enter this room and if previous experiences hadn't warned her, this would come with consequences. She took one last look at the green pendant resting against her chest, the embers in the fire reflecting against it, making it seem alive in this seemingly dead house. She carefully tucked the necklace away inside her flowing white dress, the only precious thing she owned. The only thing she was allowed to keep when the monsters stole her away from her home in the middle of the night. The screams and cries of that fateful night were permanently burned into Clary's brain, and she yet again fought with the memories to keep them down. To not let those emotions resurface.

Clary sat up straight as the library doors flew open and the ghastly figure stepped forward. The darkness of the room cast a shadow across his face, but she knew all too well who it was. Her captor strode forward, grabbing Clary's arm with immense pressure and pulling her to her feet. She knew better than to cry out. That ended with more anguish and pain. "What have I told you about this room?" He growled. Clary still couldn't see his face properly, the darkness making her brain twist his features to look like the monster she first imagined when she was captured. He shook her from her thoughts roughly, trying to get her attention. "Well?" He bellowed, his voice loud in the large room.

"Considering you have no respect for my decisions, why should I have any respect for yours?" Years of practise made her voice hard, steady and emotionless. Clary narrowed her eyes at him, refusing to seem defeated. He laughed, the sound harsh and unnatural. "Have I not respected your privacy?"

"Not when you barged in here. Especially considering as the door was clearly closed," she said sarcastically, nodding her head at the door that was now stuck in the wall. A sharp pain across her cheek brought her head spinning back towards him and she stomped down the tears and shock before they could surface. The hand that had just hit her went back to creating bruises along her arm and she clenched her fists to stop her from retaliating. He spat in her face, a sure sign that he was enraged. "How dare you! I could have left you in a cellar to let your mind _rot_ and your body be eaten by the diseased rats that live down there. You watch your tongue because it weren't for _me_ you'd be dead already." Anger bubbled up inside of Clary at his words. His black eyes were spitting fire when Clary spoke again. "How dare I? How dare _you_! If it weren't for _you_ , I would be at home living the life I want!" She tried to wrestle her arms from his grasp but that only led to him squeezing harder. He threw her to the floor, the harshness of it leaving her spluttering for air.

Clary dug her nails into the carpet, using all her strength to keep her upright. He grabbed a hand full of her hair and pulled her upright, crouching down low to put his face directly in her line of sight. "You will go to your room and you will stay there until it's time for dinner. Understood?" He spoke in a low, dangerous voice and then released her. She scrambled to her feet, heading to the door with her head held high and tears running down her face. "I heard it loud and clear, _Valentine_ ," and before he could pull her up for the malicious tone in her voice, she slammed the door shut, the sound echoing throughout the house.

 **So there is the first chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed it! Just so you know, I'm planning on doing weekly updates. I don't own any of the characters, they belong to Cassandra Clare.**

 **Please leave a review! :) Thanks**

 **~ GorgeousGeek42 ~**


	2. Chapter 2 Hidden

**Chapter 2 ~ Hidden**

Clary couldn't breathe.

Unwanted images ghosted across her memory, leaving dark and heavy imprints behind. Droplets of rain racing down her bedroom window. Tree branches reaching out from the darkness to twist around her small, child-like torso. Wisps of soft, crimson coloured hair curling around her body like a warm blanket, then being ripped away from her, the screams lingering in her ear. Her mind couldn't stop; it was racing at an incredibly pace to relive the worst night of her life, one that she feared more than the man who caused it.

The night she was kidnapped.

Her eyes whipped back and forth beneath her eyelids like a wind-screen wiper in the midst of a heavy storm; taking in information that she didn't want and moving onto the next nightmare. Clary feared the terrors that blurred into her dreams at night, covering hopeful dreams with despair and tormenting her so much that sleep never came easy to her. No matter how many times she tried to forget these memories, to crush the longing that drowned out her feelings every painful day, the darkness always left her vulnerable and wanting the life that she'll never have.

A scarred, calloused hand reached out from the darkness, curling its fingers around her throat and squeezing, squeezing until she felt as if she was choking on air. Clary's body convulsed as her brain pulled her from her sleep and she fell on the floor, grasping at the air that surrounded her throat.

Just another nightmare.

Clary sighed and lifted herself back onto the thin, grey blanket that sat in disarray on her small wooden bed. Dim light filtered in through the gap under the dark oak door, Clary's only indication that the sun had begun to rise. Her eyes drifted around the four blank walls of her bare prison, stopping at the lone chest of drawers on the other side of the room. Clary slowly stood and stared at the door for a few seconds, making sure that no one was awake on the other side on the door. When she was certain that she wouldn't be receiving a beating for being awake at this ungodly hour, she crept over to the sad-looking, wooden dresser. The dresser mostly held the only items she was permitted in this hell-hole; three, lily-white dresses and a pair of underwear.

In the first few months of her stay here, Clary always found the way she was treated peculiar. Before she had been stolen away in the middle of the night, Clary's school textbooks had explained that most children who had been kidnapped were left to starve in cells, getting next to none treatment at all. However Clary was fed two meals a day, received clean clothes and had a bed to sleep in. Whilst she wasn't permitted to walk around the house, and received beatings regularly, she still was treated better than she thought. She wasn't an expert on the topic, but she was pretty sure that most kidnappers didn't insist that their prisoners call them by their first name too. And either Valentine never asked for a ransom or her parents didn't care enough to pay for one. Clary shook that thought quickly from her head. Her parents loved her, and that was that.

Clary lowered herself into a crouched position and slowly eased the bottom drawer open. The drawer creaked when it rubbed against the frame, the sound loud in the dark silence, making Clary wince and whip her head around to look at the door. Her heart was already beating fast from her nightmare, the feeling of being choked to death still vivid in her memory, but it picked up at the thought of someone hearing. A few minutes passed, and when Clary was sure the door would stay closed, she proceeded to open the drawer. Once it was halfway open she felt around the bottom for the edge, lifting the panel once she found it. With the bottom of the drawer removed, she eased out the velvet covered book she had stolen from the library months ago. She sat down and caressed the cover of the Tale of Two Cities edition for a moment before opening the book and flipping through the pages.

Two months after her kidnapping, Clary had snuck away from her room to search the house, finding the dark hallway that led to both the library and the drawing room. The door had been left open, so Clary had made her way down the passage, stopping when she had heard two flustered male voices coming from the drawing room. One was clearly Valentine's, the other she didn't recognise, but she didn't stay long enough to find out. Once she had come across the two large doors belonging to the library, curiosity had gotten the best of her and she'd pushed them open. The stacks had looked like magnificent, gleaming mountains to her then and Clary remembered racing around them, looking at all the history and wonder that the room held. She remembered stopping in her path when the dark purple cover caught her eye. Something about the rich colour and gold-edged pages made her pull out the dust-covered novel, and she sat down between the stacks. She read for hours, flipping the pages eagerly. It quickly became her favourite, all other novels paling in comparison, so she snuck it away to her room and hid it as best she could.

Whilst she had read this book millions of times, the only victory she had over Valentine, she didn't pull out the book tonight with the intention of reading it. A small, broken pencil lay in the margin of the book, weighing down the small square of parchment paper that was hidden in the novel too. Clary had stolen these objects from Valentines drawing room on her way back from her second visit to the library. Her mother had always said that every person had a passion; something that drowned out their emotions, that was rooted in the core of their soul. She said that people spent their whole life chasing it, that the actions they took revolved around their passion. It was something they were driven for. Her mother was lucky enough to find hers. And her passion was art. She loved it; she could spend days painting, forgetting everything else except the image she was spurring into life.

Clary had adopted this love of art from her mother. She didn't know if she would call it her passion, but she hadn't realised how connected to it she was until she was kidnapped. After a week she began to crave the feeling of the pencil between her fingertips. At first she thought she just missed being able to draw every day, but as time progressed and she craved it more and more, she realised that she didn't miss the art as much as she missed her mother. She missed being able to walk into her mother's studio, the silence comfortable as they drew. She missed being able to go to her mother for help with her drawings, she missed watching her mother paint. Clary picked up the pencil and began to draw. She drew ridiculous things; her brother's guitar, the sign that hung above her father's bookshop, her mother's favourite biscuit. The light under her door was becoming brighter, so Clary tucked the objects safely into the hiding spot. She was clicking the bottom panel in when she froze.

Clary had only been drawing for fifteen minutes, not enough time for the sun to have risen that fast. Her eyes rose to study the door, but all she could see was darkness. They widened as she realised that the choking feeling she still could feel wasn't from her nightmare at all; it was from the smoke pouring in from under the door.

The house was on fire.

 **Hey guys, I'm sorry for the long wait! I've been having some internet issues lately. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Shout-out to all those people who gave me some positive reviews, I loved them! See you guys next time.**

 **Please Review :)**

 **GorgeousGeek42**


	3. Chapter 3 Inferno

**Chapter 3 ~ Inferno**

Clary scrambled to her feet and backed away from the door, her back hitting the cool, stone wall behind her. Her eyes frantically searched the space around her, trying to find a way out, but her only escape would be through the locked door in front of her. The door that would lead to the blazing inferno outside it. Smoke was filing in from under the door at an alarming rate, so Clary dropped to the floor where the air was cleaner. Her breaths were coming in hard and fast due to the lack of air and her frantic pulse as she tried to find a way out. Deciding that her only hope would be to try to open the door, she crawled along the wall until she could feel the old oak of the door frame. Her hands trailed long the warm door until she felt the steel door handle. The key-hole could be felt directly below it, so Clary lifted herself from the floor to look out of it. Orange coloured her vision, wisps of fire licking the floor, ceiling and walls, singing the scarlet carpet and melting the paintings that hung limp on the wall.

Clary banged against the door as hard as she could but the door refused to budge. She screamed for help, the only productive thing she could do, hoping that someone, _someone_ would hear her. Of course no one did. The crackling of the raging fire was getting louder, a sure sign that the blazing inferno was getting closer and becoming more powerful. The door creaked and a crack appeared at the top of the door, branching off into spindly cracks that ran the length of the door itself. They became larger, the creaking developing into a loud moaning sound and Clary crawled backwards on her hands and feet until her back hit the front of her bed. She rolled under the rickety wooden frame to protect herself from the incoming wooden shards, and just as she covered the top of her head with her hands, the old door exploded into millions of pieces, exposing Clary to the raging fire outside. Exposing her to her freedom.

She rose tentatively from her position underneath the bed. Pieces of wood covered the floor around her room, making a distinct crunching noise when she stood on them. The sight before her was horrifically worse that she had first presumed; the walls were completely charred, the doors now lay in a small piles of ash, and gold and orange overpowered any other colour in the melted hallway. Clary crouched down low as she crossed the threshold, releasing her from the thick, smoky plumes clouding the space above her. From down here she could see her escape; the large spiral staircase across the room. Most of the fires attention was on destroying the walls and small pieces of carpet on the left side of the room, so Clary crawled towards the stairs as fast as she could. The floor felt like a hot poker, it was painfully hot every time her delicate hands pressed against it, so as soon as she approached the staircase she sighed in relief and rested against the warm rail. Walking down the stairs wasn't any better as the wood was weakened from the fires below it, creaking and breaking with every step. Clary gently rested her foot against the third step, but as soon as it pressed against the wood it gave way, and Clary pulled back to catch herself before she fell through with it. Deciding that slow and steady wasn't going to win her this race, Clary raced down the stairs as fast as she could, holding her breath in anticipation as she did so. Once she had reached the bottom, she breathed out a sigh of relief, before gathering it all back in again at the sight in front of her.

Orange blooms of fire caked the walls, floor and ceiling, floorboards exploding across the floor unevenly as if an earthquake had erupted within the house. Walls had collapsed and the ceiling in some places was caved in. Smoke was everywhere, blocking Clary's view of the forbidden hallway that led to the library and the majority of the room she stood in. A chair lay on its side in front of her, blocking her path to the library. She stepped forward to move it; her only hope of escaping was the key that was guarded in Valentine's office. However, just as she dropped to the floor to see the chair clearly, she froze in her place. It wasn't a chair at all. It was Valentine. And Clary was kneeling in a pool of his blood. His waistcoat was drenched in the warm liquid, two small holes the only disruption on the smooth fabric. He had been shot. Forgetting about the blood, Clary leant forward and searched the pockets of his coat, trying to find the only thing she ever wanted from this horrible man. The key that led to her freedom. His coat turned out to be empty, as was his pants, so Clary searched the floor around her. She was about to give up when the glint of a golden object caught her eye. She reached out through the blood and felt the warm end of the key near Valentine's hand. Clary almost cried with happiness because she held her only chance at freedom in her hands. If she didn't die first.

A new form of determination pulled her to her feet and Clary set off towards the only door that led to the outside, one that was meant to be hidden from her but she had seen Valentine coming through once. Clary hurdled the broken furniture and dodged the falling pieces of charred ceiling as she navigated her way around the large bookcase. To anyone else the bookcase would have looked as if it was built into the wall. However, Clary knew better. She found the small gap between the bookcase and the wall, and squeezed through until she found herself in the dimly lit storage room. Clary came to a sudden halt. She had been fantasising about this moment since her arrival 5 years ago. She'd spent nights thinking about how it would feel and if she would see her family on the other side. If she'd been able to defeat Valentine on her own or her prince in shining armour had come to rescue her from this hell-hole. Of course that last one had been a childish 12-year-old dream but a dream none the less. But now that she was here, standing in front of the dark and gloomy door, all she could think about was getting out. Of finding her family and going back to her old life. She desperately wanted to see her parents, brother and friends, things she didn't cherish before. Tears of joy ran down her face at an alarming rate, urged on by the smoke filing into the room.

A small thread of doubt at the back of her mind made her question whether this key was the right one or not, and if it was, how did she obtain it so easily? If story books had told her anything, finding the answers was never this easy. There was no way she could go back and try to find the right one; by now the hallway had been completely demolished. She'd barely been able to escape being demolished along with it. Shaking her head to get rid of this thought, she pushed the key all the way into the lock. It turned, the sound of the door unlocking echoing through her mind like a never ending song. Clary looked back one more time, looking at what was left of this horrible place, what was left of the place she had called 'home' for the past 5 years.

She wouldn't miss it one bit.

With a smile she turned around, took a deep breath and kicked the door open. She stepped over the threshold and took off, running across the dark and uneven ground towards the trees.

The cool air whipped against her warm face and a sharp stinging pain on the left side of her body drew her attention towards her injuries. Her body was covered in scratches and soot, making her once white dress look completely black. The skirt of the dress was burnt and ripped along the bottom. A long, jagged cut ran down her leg, blood pouring out of the wound and down her leg quickly. The flesh along her left arm was burnt, her freckles gone and arm hair sizzling. The pain increased as the adrenaline subsided, making it hard for her to concentrate. She needed help, and she needed help fast.

A mysterious figure stood along the tree line, a car parked next to them, and the uneasiness flowing from this direction made Clary stop in her tracks. She tried to make out some of their features but she had no such luck. They seemed to be looking at the burning house, staring intently at it as if it was a movie screen. The fire cast a magnificent glow on the trees, creating a pool of shadow around the person. "Hey! Can you help me? Please!" Clary shouted at the person, hoping she could catch their attention. Suddenly the doors of the car opened and two, broad shouldered men stepped out, moving to stand next to the other person. It was then that Clary realised that they weren't staring at the building; they were staring at her.

Anguish and hunger seem to be flowing through the air from that direction, its target hitting her straight in the chest. The force of it made her take a step backwards. These people weren't here to help her, they were here to hurt her. By this point she realised that these people weren't at all friendly, and she had only two options left; either try and make a run for it and most certainly get captured in the process, or head back into the burning building which was likely to collapse at any moment now. And by the look of these men, she was seriously considering the latter. Clary took another step back and turned, heading back towards the inferno. She could hear the pounding of their feet as they chased her, their breaths loud in the dark silence.

The situation reminded her of a documentary she had watched on the Discovery Channel once when she was nine years old, where a lion was chasing its prey, taunting it before finally taking its life. She felt like the prey right now, her frightened state the only thing keeping her from falling apart. The throbbing in her leg and arm got worse and she felt her body begin to give up, the amount of pressure becoming too overwhelming for her. Everything seemed to become blurry, and in her delirious state she made an outrageous decision. Seeing as she wouldn't be able to make it back to the house, she stopped and turned around, her fists and legs flying about frantically, using the element of surprise to her advantage. At one point she thought she might actually be winning, and her freedom seemed a possibility again. But then reality set in and her legs and arms were encircled by their hands. She couldn't move. She was stuck.

And the last thing she saw before she blacked out was a fist flying towards her face.

 **Hey everyone, sorry I haven't posted in a while! I've been extremely busy lately, but I WILL be updating a lot hopefully over the next couple of weeks. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Some of the other characters will be making an appearance soon, I promise! As always, Cassandra Clare owns all the characters (lucky duck).**

 **Please leave a review :)**

 **GorgeousGeek42**


	4. Chapter 4 Ghost Town

**Chapter 4 ~ Ghost Town**

Memories.

Memories dance across Clary's mind like leaves in the midst of a heavy storm. They twirl and dance around her brain, and she reaches out, trying to capture them before they fly away. One particular memory comes close, taunting her, and she reaches out only for it to cheekily fly away, just out of reach. The shadows are calling her, tempting her with their darkness, the coldness pulling her underneath. The blood pumping in her veins beats loudly her ears as she struggles to regain consciousness. A memory wanders into her vision, one that is seemingly different from the others, peeking her interest. Shyly, it comes closer, and she slowly reaches out to touch it. The memory stays, and she finally loses control, letting the darkness take over.

" _Clary!" The girl walks over, taking her place by Clary's side. Clary takes a deep breath and wipes the tears from her cheeks. "Clary, what's wrong? You seemed fine before. What are you looking at?" the girl said as she searched the landscape in front of her. Clary seemed frozen in place, staring out at the peaceful green sea in front of her, the warmth from the sunset casting a glow around Clary as she sat on the rich soil. The girl sighed and sat down next to Clary, her face twisting into a look of disgust. "You know, you could have picked somewhere else to sit and contemplate. Like, you know, a mani-pedi booth," the girl groaned as she wiped small specs of dirt out of her pants and Clary laughed. "God Kaelie, getting one pair of jeans dirty isn't the end of the world." Clary looked over and grinned cheekily when Kaelie gave her an exasperated look._

 _Everyone knew that their friendship was an odd one; the two were exact opposites of each other. Kaelie was a complete princess; all hair, nails and make-up, and had the money to be one too. Clary loved mess (which is why she loved art so much) and didn't love any attention that was thrown her way. But in a way it worked. Their differences brought them together. They had been friends ever since grade one. Some girls were making fun of Clary's Dora the Explorer lunchbox, and Kaelie had stood up to yell at them. They left her alone after that, and Clary had spent the afternoon hanging upside down on the monkey bars with Kaelie, laughing and joking about. Ever since then they had been inseparable. "It is if Seelie thinks she has a shot at stealing your boyfriend," Kaelie muttered. Clary laughed and threw her arm around the tall, blonde girl's shoulders. Their laughs turned into giggles and faded into small chuckles, eventually dying out, signalling that seriousness had taken over. "I'm sorry," Kaelie said, "I didn't realise that you would get so upset. If it's any help, I think Jordan was going to say yes."_

" _It's not any help, but thanks. I'm sorry I ran away; I just couldn't deal with everyone looking at me. Why did you do it?" Clary asked. Kaelie flicked her golden tresses over her shoulder and placed her perfectly manicured hands onto her designer knees, fixing her heavy gaze onto Clary's face. "You need a push Clary. How is anyone going to ever know you if you never get the nerve to talk to them. And I had already gotten Jordan to break up with that filthy Maureen, the least you could have done is gone and actually talked to him!" She stopped yelling to calm herself, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before plastering on a smile and opening her eyes again. She twirled a piece of Clary's flaming hair around her finger and said, "You're my best friend Clary. I just wanted you to be happy. Sometimes in order to have the things you want, you have to do things you don't want to do," she tucked the piece of hair she had been playing with behind Clary's ear and released a breath, "besides, anyone would be lucky to have you. You're Clary Fray, the second most beautiful girl in school. After me of course. And I made you that, so don't forget it." Clary smiled and turned her attention towards the vast ocean of trees in front of her. "I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I don't belong here. Like my life was destined for more exciting things than people's opinions of me and what colour lipstick suits my skin tone. You know?"_

" _Clary, nothing is more important than people's opinions of you. How else do you expect to make it in this world? Deceive people and they'll give you what you want. Keep your real self a secret. You know that. Is that what this is really about, wanting an exciting life? Because Clary you do have an exciting life. Anyone would kill for your life." Clary knew she was right, what more of a life could she want? She already had everything. Well, almost everything. "Wait and see, my darling, more exciting times are coming, trust me," Kaelie stated, and her eyes glazed over as her mind wandered off and she became distracted by her thoughts, a smile playing on her face._

The image became blurry, and Clary awoke with a start. She looked around herself frantically, the rough carpeted surface and small amount of room giving her location away easily. She was in the boot of someone's car. Her head pounded and she felt terrible. Obviously these people hadn't cared enough to give her some painkillers. Clary laughed hysterically. It was like she would never ever get home. She just ran the same old story around and around again. Get kidnapped, be a captured slave for a few years, get free, get kidnapped again. The irony of her dream was bitterly clear. She wanted an exciting life, and she got one. Lucky her.

Her body felt bruised and broken and all Clary wanted to do was sleep for years. Clary didn't know if it was her delirious state but it felt like they had been travelling for days. There was no way for Clary to escape the boot; it was sealed tight. There was no point trying to escape from here anyway, not in her damaged state.

When Clary had first been kidnapped, she was naive enough to think that she could escape from the boot like they do in the movies. Oh how she had been wrong. She lacked strength; however she never let that stop her. She vividly remembered banging on the roof of the boot for hours, screaming at the top of her lungs while she glanced around at the small, dark and enclosed space around her. Confined spaces had scared her then. It seemed like such a stupid fear now as she looked back on it. Worse things have happened to her since.

Nevertheless her screams did cause her kidnapper to pull over and open the boot. That was the first time she had seen his face properly. She remembered how he grinned at her then and said, "My, you are an interesting little one, aren't you?" Then he slammed the boot shut and continued to drive. After that, Clary didn't bother screaming for help. It was evident from the deserted surroundings she saw that no one would hear her. And Valentine's words alone had spooked her into submission. However she did remembered spending the rest of that car ride with a small shred of hope in her heart as she thought about the small, silver bracelet lying on that deserted rode with two small, insignificant words engraved on the inside; _Clary Fray_. Left on the road like breadcrumbs for her knight in shining armour to follow. That hope grew smaller and smaller as the years passed, to the point where Clary had forgotten it until now.

Clary's wandering mind came to a halt as the car did, and Clary's breath hitched at the thought of meeting her new captors. Would they be kinder than Valentine? Or worse? Clary was scared to find out, suddenly finding such odd comfort within the safe enclosure of the boot. She heard the sound of car doors slamming shut, and the muffled sound of talking people. She couldn't make out if they were female or male due to the metal that surrounded her. Sweat beaded along her forehead and travelled down her brow, and Clary cursed herself at being so weak. These people can't be worse than Valentine. They surely couldn't be. Her stomach rolled uncertainly at the voices in her head, unsure of their reassurances. She knew full well that they could be.

Light blinded her vision for a second as sunlight surrounded her body, blanketing her in its reassuring warmth. She felt like she had been trapped in the stale boot for years and she was thankful for the fresh air and bright surroundings. As her vision cleared she was greeted with the sight of a burly man looking down on her with disgust. His unshaven face was framed with unkempt dark hair and marked with various tattoos and piercings. His broad shoulders, large frame and wild eyes told Clary all she really needed to know; she wasn't going to be escaping this man. He only wore a black tank top and black cargo pants, and muddy boots completed the look. A large bruise and rough scratches decorated his leather skin, and Clary smiled inwardly at the thought that she did that to him.

As he reached towards her, Clary begged herself not to flinch and show herself to be weak to this man. If he was going to attack her, she will not show him how scared she was. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. However, despite her expectations, the terrifying man only plucked her out of the boot as if she weighed nothing and roughly slammed her onto her feet as if he didn't care how badly she was damaged. He probably didn't. He held onto her damaged arm tightly as Clary struggled to be released from his strong grip. Clary gritted her teeth together against the pain, digging her nails into her palms to keep her from fainting. Another smaller man appeared from around the car, his eyes hidden by the bruises surrounding them. A purple, swollen nose took up most of his face, and small strips of white tape were haphazardly strewn along it in attempts to secure the broken bone. It was clear that the man in front of her was the brain whilst the man holding her was the brawn. It wasn't until then that Clary realised how large this taller man was. He was almost twice Clary's size, which was surprising despite how small Clary was. The smaller man looked Clary up and down, and Clary gulped down the nausea that bubbled up her throat. He then turned his attention to the larger man.

"Pangborn, she has been requested to enter Sector Six". With a slight nod, both men attached themselves to either side of Clary, trying to control her struggles to break free. The smaller man seemed to limp in slight pain as they made their way along the dark gravel path. The sun bleated down on Clary's shoulders as she took in her surroundings. Miles and miles of dirt and overgrown grass lay to the left of her, fields of land that she could barely see the end of. She saw a tree line in the distance, hinting that a forest lay beyond the tall, steel fence line surrounding the fields. The strangest thing was that she saw young males and females, possibly around her age were tending to the crops and clearing the weeds, their faces void of happiness. This place was barricaded as though to make it clear to its prisoners that no one was going to get out.

 _So I'm obviously not the only prisoner here. What the hell is this place? The owner must have some disgusting fetish for kidnapping children,_ Clary thought. Ten rectangular brick buildings lay to the right of her, six of them two stories high. The buildings were evenly spaced and separated into three separate rows. The brick looked dull and faded, and a small sturdy shed lay in a discrete corner a fair way down the field. Detached from the lifeless grounds that surrounded most of the area, there sat another brick building, however this one seemed larger and nicer, and the brick new and not worn down by the others. The steps leading up to the building were built from fresh planks of timber whereas the other buildings had old, uneven wood that looked caved in.

Clary looked toward the monstrosities looming up ahead of her as she and her kidnappers neared them. They rounded the first building and continued down a deserted lane between the two rows of buildings. Now that she was closer to them, she could see that grimy windows stood in rows of three on each floor of the buildings. The already present feeling of unease seemed to grow as she saw the bars that criss-crossed their way along each window, preventing anyone from escaping. Shadows crowded in the windows, most likely trying to get a glimpse of their new 'room-mate'. Thick chains were attached to the handles of every door. Clary came to a halt outside the last building on the second row, and Pangborn climbed the rickety steps to open the old door. It creaked as it opened, all of its weight being forced onto the rusty hinges. Clary looked inside uneasily, but all she saw was a long hallway. The smaller man shoved her forward, and Clary would have fallen from her shaking legs if she hadn't grabbed the wooden rail connected to the stairs. As she peeled her hand away she saw smears of her own blood. Looking back, Clary looked at what could quite possibly be her last glance of sunlight before she ascended the stairs. This whole 'town' looked deserted and dead. Clary looked away and Pangborn held the door as she walked through, the smaller man close behind.

Clary scoffed, _what a gentleman_.

The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the house and the light going with it. To the left of the narrow hallway there was a large common room, a small kitchen towards the end of it. There was a large wooden table and a matching set of chairs in the middle of the room, and a few old and torn green armchairs were scattered around the room. A fairly large window sat in the centre of the wall, giving the room the light it needed. The room seemed bare and the wooden floorboards were dusty, and Clary was almost certain that this was a ghost house. To the right of her were three doors, and images of dead bodies behind them haunted her mind, making Clary shiver roughly to make the visions disappear. At the end of the hallway was a wooden staircase, and Clary hesitated slightly at the bottom step, scared to find out what was up there. The two kidnappers didn't give her the satisfaction though and pushed her up the stairs. Clary pulled her leaden legs up the steps one at a time, a task that seemed more challenging than it should be.

The floor plan for the second floor was similar to the first, except there was no common room, and in its place stood a row of four doors on each side. The men lead Clary to the furthest room on the left of the hallway and pushed the door open. Inside was nothing of what Clary expected. Multiple pairs of eyes looked up towards the door, towards Clary. A mixture of females and males sat against the walls, on torn armchairs or on mattresses that sat on the floor. Most of the faces she saw were similar in age to Clary herself; however she did see a few young children sleeping on a mattress in the corner of the room. Pangborn pushed her into the room, making her step forward as he grinned maliciously at the crowd. "I brought you a friend. Show her how we work around here. Watch her though, she's a little bitch when she's angry," Pangborn growled, and an animalistic sound escaped the smaller man's throat in response. Then Pangborn turned towards Clary and a hateful expression clouded his eyes as he spoke in a dead tone, "Welcome to the Institute".

The door behind Clary closed and she was left to the sound of the two kidnappers retreating feet and curious faces. Clary swallowed slowly, knowing she probably looked like an absolute wreck with her smoke covered face, ripped dress and ruined body. Clary stepped forward into the room in order to sit down, but it was one step too many and the pain became too much, her body collapsing in on itself. A pair of molten gold eyes pierced her own eyes with such intensity as she fell to the floor, time slowing as she stared into them. Those golden eyes were the last things she remembered before she passed out, the sounds of frantic voices and shadows crowding in on her as the darkness pulled her into unconsciousness.

 **Okay, so please don't hate me. I know I haven't posted in forever, but I tried to make it up to you guys by posting a fairly decent sized chapter. My life has been pretty hectic lately, and I've been trying to think of how to sort out the plot for this story. I'll try to publish more frequently from now on though. Thank you for all your support with this story so far and for all the lovely reviews! They truly make my day. Thank you all for being so patient.**

 **Please leave a review x**

 **~GorgeousGeek42~**


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